


Einfach Verrückt

by Autumnarie



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Death, Experimentation, Madness, Origin Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-07
Updated: 2017-08-07
Packaged: 2018-12-12 10:14:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11734956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Autumnarie/pseuds/Autumnarie
Summary: Everyone always questioned just why he became so manic and excitable when blood and guts were involved when anyone else would have been horrified at worst, disgusted at best. They wonder what made him so numb that bodies, living or dead, were little more than playthings for him. It’s not normal. And he knows that it isn’t. But all he can say in his defence (though he never actually had to since everyone’s too scared to ask) is this: “It runs in our blood.”





	Einfach Verrückt

“Und when the patient woke up, his skeleton was missing, _und the doctor was never heard from again!_ ”

The Medic laughed uproariously at his hilarious anecdote, having to stop everything just to catch his breath and compose himself. Honestly, the story never, ever got old. It just got funnier every time.

Scout didn’t seem to agree though.

He smiled nervously, if only to be polite and not incur the wrath of the doctor, looking pale in the hospital light.

Though that could have been from the excessive loss of blood. About ten percent of which was on the Medics bare hands and suit.

He took a deep breath for composure and finally finished his gory story.

“Und that’s the story of how I lost my medical license.”

And now the boy looked as if he was going to pass out, the pale pallor turning green and the smile looking extra forced.

“Cool story doc...” He laughed weakly, “Really, uh...funny...”

“I know, Ja?”

The Medic reached over to the cooler and pulled the door open, pushing aside various exotic animal organs and the BLU Spy’s head until finding a heart the perfect size for the small Scout.

“Kill me.”

“Nein.”

He pulled out the selected heart and shoved the door closed, leaving the Spy to his misery and cigarettes.

The operation went on as planned; stick the Über valve into the heart, hold it beneath the medigun until it’s that beautiful shade of red like the blood of his enemies and the colour of a _sky polluted with blood, destruction and death and shining with pure, vengeance filled **POWER**_ , drop the wonderful thing into the cavity in the chest, set it in the general location where the heart should be (It looks fine, he’s sure the boy will live) and finally close the wound.

At the end, the broken skin and flesh melds back together like clay in the hands of an artisan, the result showing no scars or marks, smooth as if it had never been open.

Perfect

“Hey, thanks doc!”

The Scout stands and makes his way over to the exit, trying to make it look like his natural energy rather than trying to escape, and throws open the doors with his usual bravado.

“Oh man!” He shouts clutching his chest “You would not believe how much this hurts.”

A familiar cooing calls out from the Scouts chest. ‘Archimedes?”

* * *

 

“The guy’s totally cracked!”

Sniper rolled his eyes once again at the Scouts outburst.

“We heard you the first six times, mate. Don’t need to say it a seventh.”

The Scout turned to him, incredulous. “I’m serious, dude, he’s totally messed up! He was talkin’ about this one time he took out a guys skeleton and laughing about it-”

A chuckle rumbled from the Heavy’s chest, recalling the story from earlier that day. “It is funny story of Doktor’s.”

But mildly disturbing, yes. Especially when one considers the fact that the doctor had no medical license because of it but continued to experiment with medicine and live subjects as if a license was entirely optional.

“And nobody gets that excited about cutting somebody open and playin’ around with their insides like it’s a toy land! You gotta be completely nuts for that!”

Once again Sniper rolled his eyes then proceeded to pick up his gun and carefully clean it, opting to tune out the ravings entirely. Although...He couldn’t deny the obvious truth that Scout was happily reminding everyone. No one could.

The Medic dug around human bodies like there might be buried treasure inside, he wore blood like it was a part of his suit, laughed where others would scream or vomit and had absolutely no qualms in treating his team mates as test subjects, pushing their bodies to their limits and beyond to satisfy his morbid curiosity of how long can he bend someone before they break.

The Spy in the shadowed corner took a deep drag of his cigarette, his face that of passive apathy but his mind, not so.

“The Docteur is far from sane, oui.” He said in that low, accented drawl of his. “But like it or not, he is the only medic we have, so we will just have to hope for the best and pray that we survive him.

It was the terrifying truth of the matter.

The Pyro was much more crazy in comparison, but avoiding his-her...It’s wrath was fairly easy. Don’t wear Blue, don’t get in it’s way. But the Medic, they couldn’t avoid him, one can try but everyone had to depend on him if they wanted to survive. He fluctuated between serious and seriously unhinged. The Pyro, you can trust to be insane and destroy everything, the Medic was a wildcard whom few could predict.

You could count on blood being involved but the ‘hows’ and the ‘whys’ were never known until it was too late.

Though he was good at acting otherwise, the man was raving mad and they all knew it.

In the face of someone who took such great joy in the decapitation, bleeding and pain of others and wasn’t afraid to use them for his own gain, one could only wonder.

_Why?_

* * *

 

The cooing of the doves and the soft hum of electricity were the only sounds in the office, the rabble of the other mercenaries having died after leaving with their respective transplants.

The good doctor sat at his desk, a notebook covered in scribbles and sketches before him. He perused its contents critically, adding the odd note here and there, refining the sketches, finding problems and solutions.

Archimedes, still covered in the Scouts blood, fluttered down from the rafters and waddled over the paper, leaving little red prints in his wake. He seemed to look at the sketch, one of the Quick-Fix, then turned his little round head to his owner and cooed, shiny black eyes contacting ice blues.

Medic chuckled and gently tickled his companions chest with the end of his pencil. “Ja, meine freund. We have made a lot of progress.” Yes there had been a lot of collateral damage during his attempts to create the medigun and find a way to make the invincibility properties of the Über usable. Short-outs, explosions, the occasional death and respawn and an exploded heart that’s splattered across the OR(which he hasn’t cleaned yet), but as it stands his work was nearly complete

“But we have a long way left to go, of course.” He tapped his pencil against the page with the sketch. He would have to design a new medigun for battle use, the Quick-Fix simply didn’t have the strength to perpetually charge up and dispense Übers , he’ll need something stronger.

With what he had already accomplished, he could do in seconds what would take normal doctors months and, with more time, he would be able to take his comrades to the peak of health and beyond, he would be able to make _Gods_. Already, he had turned the world of medicine on its head, people would kill to have this sort of medical excellence in their hands, the power of invulnerability and the power of instant healing.

To the common doctor, the idea was simply impossible. It was simply...

“ _Einfach Verrückt..._ ”

The two whispered words brought Medics writing to a halt, his hands stilled and his thoughts screeched to a halt.

He laughed quietly.

* * *

 

 

_The corridor to the cellar was dark, no light except for the candle in its holder._

_The only sound was the gentle click of his shoes on the cobbled floor as a young boy, only eight, timidly walked along, gripping the candle holder like a lifeline._

_He wasn’t allowed here. Not yet. Not without asking her first._

_But he had to, he had to see her. He had to talk to her._

_At last he reached the end, where a wooden door awaited, the one he was looking for was on the other side._

_He took a deep breath, raised a shaking fist and knocked twice..._

_No answer._

_He knocked thrice more, and finally heard movement on the other side._

_Some clattering and a few loud thumps then light footsteps made their way over and the door opened._

_The little boys eyes lit up and he smiled at the familiar figure at the door._

_“Mutti!”_

_“What are you doing?!”_

_He winced and wilted a little at the sudden snap. He hated it when mutti was annoyed._

_“You’re not allowed down here, you know that!” The lady planted her hands on her hips and frowned, “And it is far past your bedtime.”_

_He looked at his shoes in shame, he knew he was breaking a lot of rules but..._

_“I’m sorry, mutti.”_

_His mother sighed, dropped her hands and leaned towards her son, her blue eyes softening._

_“Leibling, mutti is working right now, go back to bed, bitte.” He shifted his feet, but didn’t leave. His mother tilted her head and noticed his expression, one of guilt and worry. “Was ist los, meine taube?”_

_She wiped her hands on her red-stained apron and knelt down. He rocked back on his heels and didn’t immediately reply._

_“I...I was at das dorf with vati earlier und...” His mother hummed, encouraging him to continue. “Und some of the boys said mean things to me while vati wasn’t looking.”_

_“Oh?” She replied, “Like what?”_

_“Like...” He gulped and decided the cracks in the stones were more interesting to look at._

_“Like you were, um... verrückt und one day I’ll become a monster like you...” There was a beat of silence that seemed to last for hours for the poor boy as his mother thought about what he said._

_Finally, she said something._

_“...Und?”_

_Her sons eyes, eyes much like hers, snapped back to her in shock._

_“If I am mad? What about it?”_

_He began to shake, the boy had hoped that his mother would refute the claims, maybe even scold him for wasting her time with silly rumours. “A-are you, mutti?”_

_She tilted her head, as though in thought, “Perhaps I am, Ja.”_

_A horrible thought struck him at his mothers words. “Then...am I?” She hummed and raised a hand to his forehead, held it and after a few moments replied very seriously,_

_“Ja. Einfach verrückt” he gasped in shock at the diagnosis. No, surely not...He couldn’t be! Then his mother smiled cheekily, “But, let me tell you a little secret, leibling:”_

_She leaned forward conspiratorially, as if she were about to share the wisdom of the world, “All of the greatest people are, in one way or another.”_

_The child looked at his mother with wide eyes, the incredulous “Really?!” remained unspoken, but very much heard. “Of course!” She takes her son by the shoulders and looks him dead in the eye._

_“Think about it, leibling: The person who invented surgery believed that cutting someone open was a good first step to helping someone feel better when sick. Why, everyone around them must have thought they were bonkers!” He giggled a little at that, but his mother continued, “But, not only did they prove they were right, but it is common to do it now and people who are allowed to are highly respected. Respected for cutting people open and poking around their insides!” He was laughing properly now, any worry or fear from earlier forgotten in the light of his mothers words._

_“Das IST verrückt!” Mother smiled and nodded, gently pushing his stubborn forelock out of his face. “Ja, meine leibling, und that’s why you never fear your madness. Instead, let it spur und inspire you to think outside the box that “sane” people wear. If you do, then you, like all the great people before you who made preposterous dreams a reality, will do something great.”_

_The little boy was no longer laughing. Now his eyes were wide, full of awe and wonder and he quietly whispered, “Something like what, Mutti?_

_She chuckled, “Das ist for you to decide. Let us see where your madness takes you, meine kleine puppe.” She playfully bops him on the nose with her finger and stands back up, stretching._ _  
_

_“Now,” She begins to shoo him away back up the corridor, a stern tone back in her voice. “Off to bed with you. It’s well past your bedtime.” Her voice softens once more. “I will be up in a moment to tuck you in.”_

_“Jawohl, mutti. Gute nacht.” The boy smiles softly and start trotting back to the stairs. “Gute Nacht, meine puppe.”_

_She eases the door shut and utter silence descends once more in the cellar corridor._  
.  
.  
.  


_“N-nein...”  
_

_But not for long apparently._

_“Bitte, stop!”  
_

_Although muffled, the little eight year old boy can easily hear the mans voice, trembling and thick with fear.  
_

_“Let me go! I-I won’t say a word, I promise!”  
_

_A clunk sounds through the corridor. Something was just picked up, something heavy and made of metal.  
_

_“Bitte! Can’t we talk about this?!”  
_

_A click and a short but loud whir, experimental, testing functionality. He knows what comes next.  
_

_“Nein! Bitte! I don’t want to di-”  
_

_The voice is interrupted by a loud revving and the sound of flesh being ravaged and shredded. He screams, nein, shrieks as his body is torn apart, his cries harmonized by the loud screeching of metal and roar of an engine.  
_

_Nevertheless, the little boy strides on, resolutely looking forward and not looking back at the wooden door where the guttural cries of a man desperately clinging to his last threads of life plead and beg for mercy.  
_

_He knows. He knows what happens behind those doors, even though mutti und vati try to hide it until the time is right.  
_

_He has very good hearing, you see. If he strains, he can even hear it from his room, on the opposite side of the house, far away from here. The cries, the screams, the roars; he hears them all.  
_

_But its okay.  
_

_It’s all okay.  
_

_Mutti knows what she’s doing.  
_

* * *

Medic takes a deep breath and puts down his pencil. The sky is dark and his eyes prickle withexhaustion. His body demands sleep and he’s not about to say no to a good nights rest.

So he stands and stretches then gathers all his notes. Archimedes awakens from his snooze at the movement and jumps to the doctors shoulder. He chuckles and plucks the dove off his shoulder with practiced ease.

“No adventures today, meine freund. Now it is time for sleep; Doctors orders.”

He laughs at his own joke as he puts Archimedes in his cage with the rest of his brethren, locks it and heads through the doors to the OR. On his way, he stops and casts his eyes across the Operation Room, finally landing on the Quick-Fix sitting on a table. His greatest creation, his pride and joy.

The invention that was above modern medical Science.

The first stepping stone to defying nature and creating gods on Earth.

_It just needs time and improvement and the World will have no chance._

He finds himself caressing the cold metal lovingly, a smile on his face and thoughts wandering.

Here he was, in what was practically a lab in a desert in the middle of nowhere, with eight test sub- comrades, practically being paid to experiment, fighting against what appeared to be clones dressed in blue, with no idea just what their fighting over and the beginnings of revolutionary science before him.

Years ago, he never would have imagined that this was the life he would have, at the time it would have been simply preposterous.

“Und yet, here I am.”

The Medic laughs. It’s quiet but in the deafening silence of the OR at night, it seems like the loudest thing in the world.

_So, this was where his Madness led him._

He tears himself away from his creation and pushes through the door and out into the corridor.

The dark, dark corridor.

He smiles a nostalgic smile and easily navigates the halls to the dorm clusters in the stifling yet comforting darkness.

Outside his door he stops and listens...

_Nothing_.

He opens his door and enters his room, and come morning, the war will begin anew, blood will spill and gods will roam the Earth, if only for a few minutes.

.

.

.

Einfach Verrückt indeed.

**Author's Note:**

> This is based entirely on a headcanon of mine. It goes a bit deeper than what's written here but it seems good as a stand-alone fic as well. I may continue this as a series if you guys want to see more but we'll see, I guess. Please review, tell me what you liked and didn't like and if you want to see more!


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